Cinemalaya 2017: Kiko Boksingero
I was able to watch four of the nine competition films in the recently-concluded Cinemalaya (Aug. 4-13 at CCP and Ayala Mall cinemas), a yearly festival of independent Filipino films (which started way back in 2005). How I wish that I did like all the few films that I saw. As it turns out, only one really won me over. And that is, "Kiko Boksingero", directed by Thop Nazareno.
The director, whose short "Eyeball" was an entry in the short-film category of the 2013 edition of Cinemalaya, may have made just a small film (compared to the other films that I saw that have such "big" concerns), but it isn't without a big heart. Gentle and heartwarming, without being syrupy and didactic, this is the kind of film that will appeal to those who prefer their family dramas to be simple and quiet. The story, for all its worth, doesn't really break any new ground and somewhere along the way, we can already see how it will end, but the film isn't afraid to delve into a child's sadness, something that we don't even see in the Iranian films about children.
When we see in cinema a child grieving over the death of a parent and longing for a father's and mother's love, it's sure to touch our hearts. But whereas other films would take this as an opportunity - or rather, excuse - to squeeze out all the histrionic juices of the material, "Kiko Boksingero" chooses to express more with less. I always fall for films that utilize to wonderful effect pregnant pauses and meaningful silences, finding poetry in what's being left unsaid and volumes of emotions in quiet tears being shed. Isn't this how we are in real life? Contrary to the MMK-type of characters who cry all their lungs out and verbalize every bit of sentiment to make sure that the viewers don't miss anything about their feelings, we almost always keep our emotions to ourselves, preferring to seek refuge in subtlety. "Kiko Boksingero" fully understands this value.
The opening scene appropriately sets the film's tone. Here, we see the young Kiko (played by Noel Comia, Jr.), dressed in a boy scout uniform (thereby implying that he has just come from school), quietly going about a seemingly abandoned house as if looking for something or someone. Then, after a while, he goes to a punching-bag placed outside and, wearing his knitted gloves, takes some jabs at it. Still, the person he's probably waiting for is nowhere to be seen. A few scenes later, in the same setting, we learn that the house belongs to Kiko's father (played by Yul Servo, best known as the ill-fated lead character in Lav Diaz' "Batang West Side"), who has just arrived from Manila (the film is set in Baguio) and, from what we can surmise, is seeing the pre-teen Kiko for the very first time. Kiko is very eager to be with his father (who's a former boxer, thus the boxing materials outside his house), after the recent death of his mother, leaving him to the sole care of his devoted and loving yaya (played by Yayo Aguila, wonderful in such an "unglamorous" role), though it's suggested that the boy's aunt in the US (who provides them with money for their daily sustenance) is planning to get him sometime soon. Or is she?
"Kiko Boksingero" is essentially a three-hander, dealing with the boy's relationship with his father and his nanny. Such economy allows the director to fully delve into the heart of the relationships, capturing every nuance and tenderness with such depth of feeling. The result is that the three characters come off as real humans on the screen, rather than some cardboard hysterical players typical in Filipino soap operas and drama anthologies on TV. It greatly helps that the location, Baguio, is a character in itself. With its perennially cold weather and the rows of houses on the highlands being seen from afar, presumably with families living in them, they poignantly emphasize the void in the boy's life, something which he can only long for as of now, without being fully assured if it can be attained.
It greatly helps, too, that the young boy who plays the title character, Noel Comia, Jr., is such a joy to watch (as of this writing, he won the Best Actor prize in the festival). He's definitely the heart and soul of the film, conveying an incredible breadth and depth of emotions with just a few words (sometimes, even none at all) that's truly beyond his age. Watching him brings to mind Yuya Agira, the child who delivered a heartbreaking performance in Hirokazu Kore-Eda's "Nobody Knows", another film about children longing for a parents' love and for which he was awarded Best Actor in Cannes back in 2004. Kiko has definitely come of age in the film. But rather through some mischief or carnality (as what some coming-of-age stories are prone to show), Kiko's maturity happens by way of realizing and accepting a valuable lesson regarding family, as coursed through some boxing sessions with his father.
Which finally brings us to what I think makes "Kiko Boksingero" kind of subversive. By the end, there's a touching realization that a family isn't entirely defined by blood-ties. Even if our relationship with others isn't really bounded by that, as long as we have someone who shows us unconditional love and care (as is the case with Kiko's nanny), then he/she can definitely be considered a family. And we're not even talking about a rom-com here! Of course, we've already come to know such a familial wisdom before, but never has it been conveyed in such a subtle and quiet way by a Filipino film as "Kiko Boksingero".
(Noel Comia, Jr. longs for a family in Thop Nazareno's "Kiko Boksingero")
The director, whose short "Eyeball" was an entry in the short-film category of the 2013 edition of Cinemalaya, may have made just a small film (compared to the other films that I saw that have such "big" concerns), but it isn't without a big heart. Gentle and heartwarming, without being syrupy and didactic, this is the kind of film that will appeal to those who prefer their family dramas to be simple and quiet. The story, for all its worth, doesn't really break any new ground and somewhere along the way, we can already see how it will end, but the film isn't afraid to delve into a child's sadness, something that we don't even see in the Iranian films about children.
When we see in cinema a child grieving over the death of a parent and longing for a father's and mother's love, it's sure to touch our hearts. But whereas other films would take this as an opportunity - or rather, excuse - to squeeze out all the histrionic juices of the material, "Kiko Boksingero" chooses to express more with less. I always fall for films that utilize to wonderful effect pregnant pauses and meaningful silences, finding poetry in what's being left unsaid and volumes of emotions in quiet tears being shed. Isn't this how we are in real life? Contrary to the MMK-type of characters who cry all their lungs out and verbalize every bit of sentiment to make sure that the viewers don't miss anything about their feelings, we almost always keep our emotions to ourselves, preferring to seek refuge in subtlety. "Kiko Boksingero" fully understands this value.
The opening scene appropriately sets the film's tone. Here, we see the young Kiko (played by Noel Comia, Jr.), dressed in a boy scout uniform (thereby implying that he has just come from school), quietly going about a seemingly abandoned house as if looking for something or someone. Then, after a while, he goes to a punching-bag placed outside and, wearing his knitted gloves, takes some jabs at it. Still, the person he's probably waiting for is nowhere to be seen. A few scenes later, in the same setting, we learn that the house belongs to Kiko's father (played by Yul Servo, best known as the ill-fated lead character in Lav Diaz' "Batang West Side"), who has just arrived from Manila (the film is set in Baguio) and, from what we can surmise, is seeing the pre-teen Kiko for the very first time. Kiko is very eager to be with his father (who's a former boxer, thus the boxing materials outside his house), after the recent death of his mother, leaving him to the sole care of his devoted and loving yaya (played by Yayo Aguila, wonderful in such an "unglamorous" role), though it's suggested that the boy's aunt in the US (who provides them with money for their daily sustenance) is planning to get him sometime soon. Or is she?
"Kiko Boksingero" is essentially a three-hander, dealing with the boy's relationship with his father and his nanny. Such economy allows the director to fully delve into the heart of the relationships, capturing every nuance and tenderness with such depth of feeling. The result is that the three characters come off as real humans on the screen, rather than some cardboard hysterical players typical in Filipino soap operas and drama anthologies on TV. It greatly helps that the location, Baguio, is a character in itself. With its perennially cold weather and the rows of houses on the highlands being seen from afar, presumably with families living in them, they poignantly emphasize the void in the boy's life, something which he can only long for as of now, without being fully assured if it can be attained.
It greatly helps, too, that the young boy who plays the title character, Noel Comia, Jr., is such a joy to watch (as of this writing, he won the Best Actor prize in the festival). He's definitely the heart and soul of the film, conveying an incredible breadth and depth of emotions with just a few words (sometimes, even none at all) that's truly beyond his age. Watching him brings to mind Yuya Agira, the child who delivered a heartbreaking performance in Hirokazu Kore-Eda's "Nobody Knows", another film about children longing for a parents' love and for which he was awarded Best Actor in Cannes back in 2004. Kiko has definitely come of age in the film. But rather through some mischief or carnality (as what some coming-of-age stories are prone to show), Kiko's maturity happens by way of realizing and accepting a valuable lesson regarding family, as coursed through some boxing sessions with his father.
Which finally brings us to what I think makes "Kiko Boksingero" kind of subversive. By the end, there's a touching realization that a family isn't entirely defined by blood-ties. Even if our relationship with others isn't really bounded by that, as long as we have someone who shows us unconditional love and care (as is the case with Kiko's nanny), then he/she can definitely be considered a family. And we're not even talking about a rom-com here! Of course, we've already come to know such a familial wisdom before, but never has it been conveyed in such a subtle and quiet way by a Filipino film as "Kiko Boksingero".
(Noel Comia, Jr. longs for a family in Thop Nazareno's "Kiko Boksingero")
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